It’s not new for me to feel this call, a call to being silent and very quiet for a few days. There are times when I feel that I need to be restored by silence.
It’s different from rest. The call to silence often has me sitting quietly for long chunks of time. Sometimes with eyes closed. Sometimes staring out a window. The sitting seems to feed an emotional and mental well being, despite my noisy brain that trumpets more accomplishment.
The call to silence isn’t a call to distraction for me. It’s not streaming programs. It’s not reading a book. It’s not writing. It’s not filling my time with task. It’s not calling a friend. It’s not listening to music. I love all of those things, but the call to silence is, for me, so much more about being willing to be in an emptiness and in a feeling of nothingness. There is some scariness in that for me. Yet delight too.
It’s not new for me that I seek to have strong relationship with an unseen world. Spirit, yes. Flow of Life, yes. Reminds me of John O’Donohues’s poem, Fluent, that states the desire to live like a river flows.
I wonder about what this is like for others in relationship with silence. I’ve done plenty of following the attractive noises of a contemporary and busy life. I’ve been much fulfilled by such. But I’m noticing what feels like an even further letting go these days, that I’m sensing can best be found in these periods of being willing to more fully encounter the loud call to silence.